Stepping Up
by courderouge2006
Summary: Something's happened to Sheriff Kent. Now it falls to his second in command Whitney to find the truth. But what do you do when several people, including yourself, don't believe you have what it takes to step up? A story in the Sheriff Kent AU. Please R&R.
1. Chapter 1

Here's a new twist. Hope you enjoy. I own nothing here.

--

Whitney walked into the station smiling, moving his arms around to get rid of the cold. Sitting down at his desk, he tipped the bag up and smiled even bigger at the thump he heard when the big, tinfoil covered brick landed on his dayplanner. "Ohhh yea, come to papa."

Riley walked by him and stared down, his face twisting in fear. "Oh come on Whitney, don't tell me…"

"Oh yea! You are looking at Whitney's Fordman's Famous Fried Breakfast Loaf. Sausage, bacon, ham, three kinds of cheese, sautéed onions and hash browns all snuggled lovingly between a toasted sourdough bun!" He smiled at Riley as he unwrapped it, the smell filling the room.

Riley rolled his eyes. "You only manage to make that when Lana isn't home to fuss about the smell… and Kyle can't see his father do that to himself."

"Nell's birthday, they're visiting the city." Whitney picked up the lump and sniffed it lovingly before he took a bite, moaning happily. "Oh that is so good."

Riley shook his head and walked off toward the holding cells.

Ian walked into the station, talking to a couple of the others before he made his way to Whitney's desk. "Whitney is Clark… Oh you made that thing again? Whitney, how many times do I have to tell you how sick that is? Do you know how many calories are in that thing?"

Whitney shook his head. "Nope. Ignorance is bliss."

"So if you were to find out, then that would upset the delicate balance between stupidity and enjoyment, is that right?"

Whitney nodded, a muffled "mm hmm" sounding out.

Ian sat on the corner of his desk. "Well then, as a physician, I think it's only right that I tell you the caloric intake from the bread alone is…" He stopped when he saw that Whitney had actually drawn his gun, laying it on his leg.

After taking a minute to swallow, Whitney sighed. "Ian, I don't really ask for much in this life. Catching a Shark's game with my son, hanging out with my friends, sneaking a quickie with my wife in the crash room when I'm on a double shift. But this, this is one of the things I do ask for. And if you take this away from me, I'm gonna have to shoot you. So what's it gonna be? Your professional peace of mind, or your ass, 'cause that's where I'm gonna shoot you, butt head."

Ian opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out for a long time… "So I was looking for Clark, have you seen him?"

Whitney shook his head. "He's got 3 off, said something about getting in some fishing, but with how cold it is and all, I figured he was probably going to see Lois to… you know… stay warm." Whitney winked.

Ian chuckled. "So when does he get back?"

"Tomorrow morning. You can try calling him, but he's probably dehydrated by now."

The doors to the station burst open then, giving way to the subject of Whitney's reasoning. "Lois, what are you doing here?"

She turned back from heading toward Clark's office. "I was coming to see Clark. I haven't heard from him in a few days."

Whitney sat up, pulling his boots off the desk. "But, he's been off since Sunday. I thought he was coming to see you?"

She shook her head. "He told me he was going fishing out on some lake but he'd see me today. But that's the last I heard from him. He hasn't answered his phone, or returned any of my calls. That's not like him. Has he called you?"

Whitney was already pulling his cellphone from his pocket. "No, but I didn't expect him to. I figured you two were trying to break a personal best." After rechecking his messages and texts, Whitney hit his speed dial and listened. "Straight to voicemail. Phone must be off."

"Or dead," Ian interjected, suddenly realizing how ominous that sounded. "I mean, there's plenty of reasons for that, maybe it fell out of the boat?"

Whitney was moving toward Clark's office. "He'd have come back, he doesn't like being out of contact." Pulling his keys out, he unlocked the door quickly and stepped in. The three went through the phone, messages, mail and his computer, but no message of any sort had been left by the Sheriff.

Whitney leaned back in the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. "Ok, we're just gonna check a few places. Ian, you're going with Riley out to Crater Lake, that's his favorite fishing spot. Lois, did you check his place yet?"

She shook her head. "No, the station is first on the way from Metropolis. I was going there next."

"Do that. I'm going out to Mama Kent's. Call at first sign of anything, got it?" He was already back out of the office. "Riley, you're going with Ian, he'll fill you in." Whitney grabbed his hat from the desk and was moving to the door, bursting through them and headed to his cruiser.

Ian and Riley were moving to the back door and Lois was following Whitney out. Riley suddenly stopped dead in front of Ian, making the smaller man bump into his back. "Riley, what's…?"

Riley was pointing to Whitney's desk. Ian followed his line of sight and saw what he meant. Whitney had left his breakfast concoction on the desk, not even bothering to put it in the break room. Ian looked up and met Riley's gaze. "Something's got Whitney freaked out."

Riley nodded. "Let's go, now."

--

Whitney pulled down the dirt lane toward Kent Farm. His eyes moved all around the yard but he didn't see any sign of the Charger. Grumbling to himself, he parked out in front of the house and looked into the barn, but still no sign. Whitney rubbed his hands over his eyes. "Ok, this is nothing serious. Calm down man, you're gonna find his dumb ass out by the lake in a tent or something, and he didn't realize his phone died. Alright then."

Stepping out of the cruiser he saw Martha step out of the door. "Whitney, good morning. Have you had breakfast?"

His stomach grumbled, and he suddenly remembered he had just started on his glorious breakfast sandwich when all this started. _"That's another reason to whup him for getting me freaked out here." _He walked up the porch steps. "I grabbed something, yes ma'am. Thank you anyway."

She took his arm and walked inside. "Well come in, let me get you some coffee."

Whitney chuckled. Walking into this place in the cold months was amazing. The house was warm and always smelled like cinnamon and fresh baked bread. "Thanks Mama Kent."

She poured him a cup and held it out. "So what brings you out here this morning?"

Whitney took a drink and licked at his lip. "Well uh… I was just gonna ask if you had seen Clark lately?"

She shook her head, pouring herself some tea. "No, but he mentioned he had a few days off. I thought he'd spend it with Lois."

He nodded. "Well, me too. But she came in today, she hasn't heard from him since Sunday. And he's not answering his phone."

Whitney saw the flicker of concern wash over Martha's face, but she brushed it away quickly. "Well Whitney, I'm sure he just wants a little time alone right now. With it being today and all."

Whitney looked up suddenly. "Oh. Mrs. Kent, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to… right now and all. It didn't even cross my mind. I knew that it was today, it just…" He shut himself up and stared down at the mug in his hands.

Martha patted his arm. "It's ok Whitney. I know it was hard on you too."

He nodded slightly and stood. "Thanks Mama Kent. I didn't mean to disturb you, I'm gonna get going now." He kissed her cheek and made his way to the door.

"No problem Whitney. And you be sure to bring Kyle over for some hot cocoa soon. I've got the big marshmallows." She saw his face light up and she smiled. "Yes, enough for both of you."

He smiled and kissed her cheek again. "Alright then, I'll bring him by soon. Thank you ma'am." Whitney jogged out to his cruiser and hopped in, keying up his radio. "Riley, this is Whitney, got your ears on?"

"_Yea Whitney, I got you. We're out here at Crater, no sign of a campsite or tire tracks."_

Whitney sighed. "Alright then, but Mrs. Kent just reminded me about something we didn't consider."

"_What's that?"_

Whitney looked round the farm one more time and sighed. "What's today's date man?"

The radio was silent for a few moments, then keyed to life, and Whitney heard a big sigh. _"That makes sense. We're heading there now, have you told Lois?"_

"No, I'll contact her now and tell her where to meet us." Whitney clipped the mic back and started the cruiser up.

--

Whitney pulled up to the gates of Smallville Cemetery. Driving down a familiar stretch he chuckled in relief when he saw the familiar black car. "Damn bossman, give me a heart attack." Pulling up behind the car he stepped out.

Snow covered the ground, and there was a good bit on top of the Charger. "Hasn't been heavy snow since last night. Did he camp here?" Whitney started walking over to the gravesite but there was no sign of Clark. Finally reaching the headstone, he crouched down. "Hey Mr. Kent."

He looked at the somber grey stone, the final marker of Jonathan Kent. His hand traced over the letters. "Jonathan Kent. October 19th 1961-January 26th 2006. Beloved Husband, Father, and Friend"

Whitney sighed, remembering the man who had always been good to him. He reached out to brush the snow off of the stone, wiping it from the top and then where it piled up on the side next to his name and he stopped. There was something else there. Wiping the stone down, he saw something written in scraggly red writing.

"Clark Kent. 1987 – Now. Dirty Cop"

Whitney's breathing stopped. He looked all around but he saw no sign of his friend. "Clark? Clark where are you? CLARK!!!"

He pulled his cell phone out, and was dialing for Riley when he looked back down. There was a line under the writing. Wiping the rest he saw a jagged arrow pointing next to the grave. "No no no no no no…"

Whitney hit his knees, pulling snow away only to see freshly dug earth. Digging his hands into the cold mud he pulled hard, digging out as much as he could, digging frantically. "Clark! I'm coming Clark!"

Ian and Riley got there to see him digging through the dirt next to the grave. "Whitney, what are you doing?"

"Getting him out!"

Both men were confused, but they finally looked at the grave stone. Both hit the ground next to him, digging with him.

Lois ran up minutes later and found the men covered in mud, wet from the snow. "What is going on?"

Whitney didn't answer, trying to reach through the heavy dirt when finally… "Got something!" He dug around and found an edge, trying to follow it. Pushing his other arm into the hole he pulled up a dirt covered box with a lock on it. "What the hell is this?"

"It's a safety deposit box. It needs a key."

Whitney shook his head and jammed the box back down in the mud, the lock to the top. "Back up." Pulling his jacket off and cleaning the muck off his hand as much as he could he pulled his pistol. Aiming, he turned his head away and fired, dropping back to his knees and pulling the box from the muck again, flipping the top open now.

Clark's favorite cap sat in the box, soaked in red. Whitney's stomach rolled as he reached out for it, Ian stopping him. "Whitney no. Evidence. Just… let me ok?"

Whitney nodded, not moving. Ian looked around. "Riley, I need my bag out of the car." Ian scooped up snow and started rubbing his hands together, getting rid of most of the dirt. Shucking his jacket off he dried his hands off on the inside as best he could and pulled some gloves from his bag. "Always be prepared, right?"

"Not the time boy scout." Whitney was trying to keep his temper in check, pissed off that he was being held back from trying to find out what happened to Clark.

Ian just nodded and reached into the box slowly, lifting the cap. Beneath it, Clark's cell phone, badge and gun were situated, all splashed with blood.

Whitney reached into Ian's bag and grabbed some gloves, not bothering to pull them on. Picking the gun up carefully, he sniffed. "It's been fired. Maybe Clark knicked them." Dropping the clip, he looked at it. "One missing, one chambered. He got off one shot."

Lois was pacing behind them. "So what does this mean? Where is he?"

Whitney stood back up, wiping at his face, not even noticing the dirt he smeared on himself. "Someone… somebody's got Clark."

He stared down into the hole, the "grave" someone made for his best friend.

"What do we do now Whitney?"

He turned back to Riley. "What? Why are you asking me?"

Riley didn't say anything, he just looked around at the ground.

Ian spoke up. "I think he means… You're second in command. So now, with Clark… missing…" Ian stepped closer and gestured to the muddy deputy, "Whitney, you're in charge."

--

This is just a teaser to see if there's any interest in me continuing this story. Many people have said they like Whitney as I've written him and the jokester, buddy relationship he has with Clark. There has also been a hint of Whitney's past touched on back in "Smallville, Big Trouble" and that is what i want to build on. But in all fairness to warn you, this will go into a darker place in Whitney's past, the part he doesn't like talking about. So, with that in mind, please let me know if you would like me to continue with this, or just scrap it. I've kept writing this AU because of the support of my readers, and I don't want to alienate anyone.

I hope you're intrigued. Thanks for reading. Please review and let me know your thoughts, or PM me through

Barry


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two, hope you enjoy. Not as much action, trying to move the story along.I own nothing.

--

Lana walked into the station, hurrying toward the officer's desks. She saw Riley rushing into Clark's office and followed him. Ian, Lois, Riley and several others were inside, talking frantically. "Lois? Lois!"

Lois turned around, looking irritated, but she looked relieved to see Lana. "Hey, sorry… I'm just…" She held her hands up, looking frustrated and letting out a grunt. "There's just a lot going on right now."

Lana nodded and gave her friend a hug. "I know, its fine. Don't worry, if there's anything I can do, you know I'm here."

Lois nodded. "Yea, I know. Where's Kyle, I thought Whitney said you two were visiting your Aunt?"

"I came back when I heard from Ian. I left Kyle with Aunt Nell, I wasn't sure how to explain all of this just yet. Where's Whitney?" She looked around the office, not seeing her husband.

Lois gestured out to the bullpen. "He's at his desk."

Lana nodded, and after squeezing her friend's hand she walked out of the office to talk to her husband.

"Whitney?"

He didn't move. His chin was propped on his hand, and he was looking at a stack of photos.

Lana pulled the chair from another desk and sat down, scooting closer. "Whitney? Please, talk to me."

He still didn't move except to flip another picture over, studying the next one closely.

She sighed. "Whitney please. You can't shut off like this."

"I should have called."

She scooted closer to him. "Called who sweety?"

He shook his head. "I should have called him. I was going to call him and give him a hard time, tease him because I thought he was with Lois instead of fishing like he said. If I'd called, we'd have realized he was missing sooner. We'd have a better jump on this."

Lana let out a shaky breath. Whitney's voice sounded… dead. No joking tone, no life. He was a robot. "Whitney, you couldn't have known something like this happened."

He flipped the next picture, a close up of the gravestone. "It's the day. Mr. Kent's funeral. This is a damn dirty way to send someone a message. Whoever did this, he's not a man."

Lana stood up and wrapped her arm around Whitney, kissing his cheek. "Whitney, it's going to be ok. Everyone's working on this, and they know they have you here, so…"

He shook his head and pushed back from the desk. "I'm not… I'm not in charge Lana. That's not me, that's Clark's job."

Lana nodded slightly. "I know that, but everyone knows you're his right hand Whitney. They're looking at you now."

He shook his head again. "No. They need to look somewhere else. I'm not the boss. I do what I'm told." Whitney tossed the pictures back into a folder and shut it, walking back toward the break room. "Can you tell Ian I need to talk to him?"

Lana sighed and nodded to him. She walked into the office and told Ian, who was followed out by Lois. Whitney sat on the counter, drinking a cold cup of coffee. "Did you get anything out of Lowell yet?"

Ian shook his head. "I called, and they're rushing the samples, but they don't have anything on it yet."

"How about the box? Riley, any word on where it's from?"

Riley shook his head.

Whitney just grunted and drained the rest of the coffee. "So we're at a dead end. Great."

"We've got everything so far up on the board in the office Whitney, come see if it jogs anything for you, we're getting nowhere."

Whitney shook his head. "No, that's fine. Has anyone been out to see Mrs. Kent since we found out?"

"An officer is out there right now, he's staying until we know anything."

Whitney chuckled dryly. "At least he'll be eating good today."

Lois' jaw ticked as she tapped her foot, arms crossed over her chest. "So what's the next step?"

Whitney hopped off the counter. "I don't know. We need to get in touch with someone, I guess see if Captain Sawyer can help us out. Someone needs to head this up."

Lois groaned. "Yea, you."

Whitney looked up from the floor for the first time. "No, not me. This isn't my thing, I'm not the leader."

"Well you've spent enough time around Clark, you know how he'd operate. You know what he'd say to do next Whitney. Think."

"No, just contact Captain Sawyer, and see what she can do for us."

"You know she'll say that we should carry on first and foremost until she can help, so what do we do next Whitney?"

"Lois, I don't know, just contact the Metropolis PD, and then we'll…"

"We don't have time to waste on this, what is your problem? Your best friend is missing, and you act like it doesn't even matter! So come on, just think. What's the next step, how would Clark…"

Whitney twisted, throwing the mug and shattering it against the wall next to the sink. "I'M NOT CLARK!" He brushed past her, walking out of the break room. They heard the front door bang open.

Lois looked around the room. Lana, Ian and Riley all looked shocked. "I'll be right back." She motioned to them, and started to follow the deputy. Walking through the front door she looked around and didn't see a sign of him. "Whitney?!" She turned and walked toward the side of the building, finding him sitting on the snowy ground, leaned against the wall. "Whitney, please tell me what the hell is going on here? Clark is missing, and you're sitting back and not doing anything. Everyone in there wants to do something but they look to you. Whether you like it or not, you're in charge now. So what is the problem?"

He banged his head back against the brick. "I'm not a leader Lois. I'm a grunt. I'm a good little soldier that they point in the right direction, and I go take care of the problem. But I don't choose the direction."

Lois stared at him… she wanted to scream at him and tell him that was flimsy… but years of upbringing on bases made her understand him. "Whitney, it's not like that. You're not just some grunt here. You're second in command. You're not a grunt, you're not a Private. You're the Colonel, the Captain. Wherever Clark is, the next step down, that's you. And the others in there, they need you to step up. I need you to step up."

He sighed, staring up at the sky. "Lois, I just… there's reasons… what if I screw this up? This isn't a stupid party game, or coaching baseball. This is… this is Clark's life."

She crouched down by him. "I know. But Whitney, you know you can do this. I know you can."

He looked back to her. "You trust me?"

She nodded. "Clark does. That means I do too."

Slowly, Whitney stood up, brushing the snow off his jeans. "Alright. Let's go to work." Whitney headed back inside, walking into Clark's office for the first time since the case broke. "Ok, first off any ideas on who we're dealing with?"

Riley looked at him, then Lois… and pointed at the board. "We've looked at a few people who have threatened Clark, but it's all just petty stuff. Busting up a teenager's pot farm in the shed and a husband who got caught in an affair because of a ticket Clark wrote him. But none of it seems really credible."

Whitney looked at the board, hopping up to sit on the desk. "Why isn't Edge up there?"

Ian looked up. "Morgan Edge? He's still in maximum security prison. He's barely been allowed correspondence with the outside world and their group folded after the bust pretty much."

Whitney ran his hand over his face. "It's been nine months since the bust. That's enough time to fall back and regroup. And he's not the only Edge in custody."

Riley laughed. "You can't mean Billy. He pissed himself during interrogation, there's no way he's capable of something like this.

"No I don't but chances are he's heard something from someone around the cell block. Gossip is worse around a jail than the beauty shop down the street, someone's gotta be bragging about this." He hopped off the desk. "I need to talk to Billy. Lower security prison, it'd be easier to get to him first. Has anyone gotten in contact with Sawyer yet?"

Murmured no's filled the room. Whitney walked around the desk and sat down, picking up the phone. "Ian, I don't care whose ass you gotta kiss or kick, we need those results. Riley, you're with Lois, find out where that box came from."

Lois raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"You're boy toy's missing, if anyone can push this along it's you." He reached into a familiar drawer and tossed something to Lois. "I'm not going through the bullshit swearing in, it wouldn't stand up anywhere anyway. Let Riley do the official work, back him up. Find where that deposit box came from."

Lois smirked as she rubbed her hand over the badge. "You got it… bossman."

Whitney shook his head, chuckling as he dialed the number to Sawyer. "Sounds better when I say it."

--

"Thank you captain, I'll be in touch." Setting the phone down, Whitney sighed.

"Any news?" Ian stood in the doorway holding a folder.

Whitney glanced up. "I'm going to Metropolis to see Billy, Sawyer's setting it up right now. What's that?"

Ian walked over. "The results from Lowell. They finished the test on what we found."

"Please tell me some good news Ian."

Ian opened his mouth, and shook his head slightly. "All the blood… it's Clarks."

Whitney shut his eyes tightly. "So, maybe he didn't get one of them with the missing round."

"The only fingerprints on the gun belong to Clark, but there was a weird… anomaly."

"What anomaly?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders. "I really don't know how to explain it. It's like a big smudge. It doesn't match up to the normal look of a glove, and there's no sort of residue."

Whitney shook his head. "Just gets better and better." He stood slowly. "Nothing out of the car?"

Ian shook his head. "They figure the car might have been planted there, but there is no trace of anyone but Clark and Lois in that car."

Whitney chuckled. "I can imagine that. Alright, I'm gonna hit the road, I gotta get to the prison and see if I can scare some answers out of the kid."

--

Checking his pistol, Whitney signed the ledger and was through the halls of the prison to the interrogation area. Walking into a nondescript room he sat down to wait. While he waited he pondered exactly how it was possible to get the walls, table, chairs and floor the exact same shade of grey.

The door opened and Billy shuffled through, his hands and feet linked to the belt around his waist. "You can take those off of him."

The officers looked at him and he just nodded. After they were removed, Billy sat down, rubbing his wrist. "Thanks."

Whitney sat down across from him. Billy still looked like the same punk kid who had sold them all out to their deaths. Someone slammed a door outside the room and Billy jumped. Whitney held back the scoff biting at his lips. "How are you Billy?"

The scared kid just nodded. "O-ok."

Whitney nodded. "Billy, have you been paying attention to the outside world?"

He nodded again. "The story about Clark. It was on the news at lunch."

"Yup. I need to know what you've heard."

Billy looked up at him, his eyes darting around. "What do you mean? I'm… I've been in here since the trial."

"Yea I know that, but you're still Edge's son. Has anyone around here said anything about it, bragged any?" Whitney leaned in, propping his arms on the table.

"No. I haven't heard anything at all, I swear Whitney!" Billy backed up, holding his hands up.

Whitney nodded. "Ok, I believe you Billy. I believe you. But if you hear anything, I need to know, got me?"

Billy nodded so quickly Whitney worried he'd break his neck. "How?"

"I'll talk to the warden, he'll set it up." Whitney stood up and walked to the door, knocking twice. "Thanks Billy, good to see you. You look good… for you know… this place."

Billy smiled. "T-thanks Whitney." He got serious again. "And you know I'm sorry about everything I did then right? I just… I was messed up."

"I know Billy." The door opened and Whitney tossed a wave back as he walked off quickly. He didn't even spare a glance back, or he might have seen Billy's innocent looking face twist into a grin.

--

Whitney stood in front of the warden. "So, I'd appreciate being notified ASAP if Billy has any information he hears about our Sheriff."

The warden nodded. "I don't see any problem with that Deputy Fordman. I'll alert the floor captains. And I'll put them in contact with Marcus, he'll get the word to me." He stood and gestured to the door. "Deputy Fordman, my head officer, Marcus."

Whitney turned around and shook the man's hand, noticing it felt a little strange. Whitney glanced down to see that Marcus' hand was covered in scar tissue. A gruff laugh snapped his attention up, he saw the man laughing. Whitney coughed, mumbling an apology.

"It's alright, catches everyone by surprise. It's a good lesson not to reach inside a burning car to pull the perp out, just leave him to his own devices." He held both hands up. "At least it keeps the animals off balance, they wonder how I got these."

Whitney just nodded. "Yea well, I'll just stick to them thinking I'm the idiot sidekick and then bust them."

After finishing up the plans, Whitney got his weapon back and left the prison. He was almost to the cruiser when his phone went off. "Hello? Hey Lois, any news? Ah k, gotcha. I'll see you back at the station, on my way."

Climbing into his car, Whitney left the lot and got back on the highway, considering for the first time, at least for a serious reason, abusing the lights and siren to get him back to Smallville faster.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews and support. Here we go boys and girls. Enjoy. I own nothing.

--

Whitney ran into the Smallville Sheriff's office, looking around. "Riley and Lois get back yet?"

The officer at the call desk pointed to Clark's office. Stripping his jacket off, Whitney tossed it over a chair as he walked around the desk. "Tell me you got something here?"

He saw Lois sitting on the couch, grinning. And Riley sat across the room in a chair, looking nervous.

Whitney pointed to Lois. "She looks happy. Too happy." He cut his eyes to Riley. "What did she do?"

Riley looked up and met Whitney's gaze. After a deep breath, he shrugged. "It wasn't over the line. It was close. But she did good."

"Riley, I understand if you're under duress, I know how she is. If you feel you are in danger, and are speaking from a script, blink once for yes and twice for no."

Whitney had to duck to miss the magazine Lois threw at him. "Hey, I didn't break any laws. I might have just pushed for some information, and used a wall, a knee and a gun to do so."

Whitney's eyes bugged out. "A gun? I didn't give the OK on that! Did you let her use your gun?" he asked Riley.

"It's my gun Whitney. Personal protection. I have the permit." She crossed her arms.

Sighing, Whitney rubbed at his face. "Just… what did you find?"

Lois stood up and walked in front of the desk, handing him a few sheets of paper. "The box is from a bank that closed two years ago, Rutger's Savings and Loans. The bank was in Star City, and it was a branch of a front company that goes back to 1964. The records are a little hazy, but…"

Whitney stared at her, gesturing with his hands after she went silent. "But what?"

Lois sat on the edge of the desk. "I only heard about this because of some of the old timers at the Planet, but… the rumors were back in the early '60s, Lionel Luthor's parents died in an apartment fire, it took the whole building down. Lionel came into some money from the insurance, and the owner of the building came into money from the insurance. Lionel took his cash and started up a small company... ten years later, LuthorCorp was born."

"So we're looking at Luthor for this? But Lionel hasn't set foot in Smallville in a couple decades. The only Luthor around is…" Whitney tapped his fingers on the desk, suddenly going rigid. His voice dropped, turning angry. "Lex."

Whitney stood up and went to the weapons cabinet, pulling a second pistol and tucking it into his belt.

"Whitney, what do you think you're doing?"

"Gonna get some answers Riley."

Lois reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Whitney, you know you can't go in there with a lead as flimsy as this. It's thin. Paris Hilton would tell it to eat a cheeseburger."

He sighed, staring at the cabinet. "Every minute we waste, that's longer that Clark is out there, somewhere, and we don't know what kind of shape he's in."

She nodded. "I know. But we can't risk losing time backtracking from a wrong turn."

Replacing the gun, Whitney shut the cabinet. "Fine. Fine. We'll go steady, but not slow."

Riley crossed over to them. "We did get one other piece of information. Clark had the car serviced before he took time off. There's 100 miles on the odometer since it left the garage. Factor in the ride to his house and back the next day, maybe another ten just around the town, and we've got about 70 miles unaccounted for."

Whitney nodded. "Good, good. So, let's think this out. We need to think about where he went."

Riley pointed at the map on the board. "Well, the car had obviously been at the cemetery, maybe he was there at first and got snatched?"

Whitney shook his head. "He wouldn't have gone there two days before… the day."

"Maybe he planned on being out of town? Visiting… someone?" Riley shrugged, his eyes looking over at Lois.

Whitney grunted. "No. He's visited on other days before, but he'd never go that close to the anniversary and not on the exact date itself." Whitney sat back, steepling his fingers in front of his face. "There's got to be a way to build some sort of… timeline."

Lois sat up on the sofa. "How about the tires? Can't they check for grit, soil samples?"

"But around here, he could have been on any number of dirt roads and yards," Riley offered.

She shook her head. "Whitney, how long did he work before he took the time off?"

He looked up, his eyes shut tight. "Ummm… he worked ten straight. He was either here, or his place. He racked up the extra time by not taking his scheduled days off the last couple weeks."

She nodded again. "And was there anything big going on? Any cases that pulled you out to a farm or anything?"

Whitney shook his head. "You're saying… ten days on, no big busts, the tires would be clean. Plus the rotation and checking the tires when it was getting serviced. So we check the tires for samples other than his place, his mom's farm, and the cemetery."

She nodded.

Whitney smiled as he picked the phone up. "Lois I could kiss you… if Lana and Clark wouldn't whip my ass. Anyone know where Ian is?"

"He's still at Lowell County department, staying on top of whatever they find."

"Thanks Riley. Ian? Whitney here. Got something else for you…"

--

Lana walked into the station. It was quiet. Only a few lights were on. She stepped up to the door to Clark's office, but before she knocked she heard a sharp whistle. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Whitney at his desk.

Smiling softly, she walked over to him. "Hey sweety."

"Hey babe. What are you doing here?"

She leaned in and kissed him quickly. "Making sure that you eat something other than twinkies and mountain dew." She sat a bag in front of him.

Whitney chuckled. "Don't laugh, that got me through some hard nights in my single days. And besides, the vending machine doesn't stock Twinkies anymore, it's some crappy knock off 'Golden Crème' thing."

Lana shook her head, grinning. "Whitney, we started dating in high school, your last 'single days' were when you were 16. You're twice that old now."

"Hey now, what is it with you and Clark making fun of me about my age?"

She cupped his cheek. "Awww sweety, it's not making fun of you if it's true. Eat." She hopped off the desk and went to the break room to get him something to drink.

Whitney was halfway through his sandwich when he looked back at her. "How's Kyle doing?"

She licked her lips. "He's good. He misses you. And… well…"

"What?" He knew her tones, this one didn't sound good.

"Dean and Nell were talking downstairs last night, we didn't know that Kyle came to get a drink. He… he knows that Clark is missing. He cried for two hours before I could get him to go to sleep again."

Whitney's eyes closed. He didn't move, but Lana could see his body shaking. She knew this wasn't going to go over well.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him that someone was trying to hurt Uncle Clark, but all of his friends were going to help him. And he asked if daddy was helping too."

Whitney's eyes flew open. "And?"

"I told him his daddy was doing everything he could to help Uncle Clark." She laid her hand on his knee, squeezing softly.

Whitney released a shaky breath. "Thanks." Tossing the last bit of the sandwich on the desk, he sighed. "Lois is sleeping in the office, I tried to get her to go to our house, but she doesn't want to be too far away."

Lana smiled. "Yea, I can see that. The man she loves is missing, she's not going anywhere until she knows he's alright."

Whitney glanced up. "You think she loves him? I mean, I know they're together a lot, and I've messed with him about it, but do you think she really feels that?"

Lana just nodded.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "How can you be sure?"

Rolling her eyes, Lana leaned in toward him. "Because if you were missing, that's where I'd be." She kissed his forehead and walked toward the crash room. "Let me know if anything changes."

Whitney just smiled as she walked off, grabbing the bag and wadding it up to toss it when he felt something else. Opening it back up, he reached in and found a pack of Twinkies. Smiling, he pulled the package open. "Damn I love that woman."

--

Whitney felt a tapping on his foot. Opening his eyes he groaned. Maybe Lana was right, he was getting a little too old to sleep at his desk with his feet propped up. Propping his hat up, he saw Lois tapping on the toe of his boot.

"Rise and shine, time to get to work."

He grunted again. "Five more minutes."

Lois sighed. Then, she grabbed his feet and pushed them back, tipping his chair and sending him to the floor backwards.

Whitney tried grabbing onto his desk, but he missed. He braced for the hard crack of the tile… but he felt a nice fluffy landing. Looking back, he saw the cushions off the sofa under him and the chair, bracing his fall. "What the…?"

Lois shrugged. "She wouldn't let me tip you unless I made sure you couldn't get hurt." Lois smiled sweetly. "And I just really wanted to tip you."

Whitney stared as she walked off and looked back, seeing Lana smiling. "Just looking out for you sweety. Go shower, wake up. You'll feel better."

Whitney stood up with a groan. "Women are crazy."

Twenty minutes later he walked into Clark's office in fresh jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt Lana brought him. "Any word on those tires?"

Ian sat up from the sofa, rubbing his face and fixing his glasses. "Uh yea, I've got it here."

Whitney laughed as he sat down at the desk. "You look like hell Ian."

"Yea well, you stay at Lowell County all night and see how nice you look in the morning."

"I'd look damn sexy. It's in the genes."

Lois whistled. "Boys, focus."

They both sat up straight, mumbling apologies. "What'd you find Ian?"

"Gravel in the treads matching Clark's house, grass and mud from the cemetery, and another sample. It took driving at 2 am to three different ponds and lakes, but we matched it. He was at Crater Lake."

"I thought you and Riley said there was no sign of a camp or a car there?"

Ian folded the paper. "Well, we know that we got two inches of snow Tuesday alone. So the chances are that Clark was out there Monday, and the snow covered up the signs. We just didn't see anything that matched signs of a car being there that morning."

Whitney nodded. "So, someone knew that he liked fishing out at Crater Lake. Shit, are we looking at another mole?"

"Maybe not. I mean, it would be easy enough to just follow Clark. It's not like the lake was a super secret place he went to." Ian pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

The intercom buzzed. _"Whitney, line 1"_

Picking the phone up, he hit the button. "Deputy Fordman. Hello Warden. He does? Anyway I can talk to him? Uh huh, yea I guess that does make sense. I'll be there soon. Thanks." Hanging up, he stood quickly. "I'm going back to see Billy, he passed a message along, says he's got something." Looking around the room, he sighed. "Anyone see a spare shirt hangin' around? This doesn't look very professional."

Ian laughed. "Since when did that stop you?"

"Shut up geek boy." Whitney walked out of the office. "Lana? Babe I gotta run back to the city, might have a lead. Lana?" He walked out the door into the lot and saw her walking back from the car with a black button up shirt.

She handed it over to him. "Sorry, haven't caught up on the wash yet, this is the best one right now. Be safe." She kissed him quickly and walked back inside.

Whitney just chuckled. "Damn I love that woman."

--

The ride was taking longer this time it seemed. Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Whitney had time to think… too much time.

Clark was missing. His best friend was missing. He sighed.

His brother was missing.

And it was in his hands now. Whitney knew he could do this, but if he was honest with himself, he was scared.

It'd be so easy to get this done the old way.

He shook his head. No thinking like that. He couldn't.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he sighed. In Metropolis there was a lead, and that would get him closer to finding Clark.

He nudged the gas pedal, pushing the cruiser just a little faster.

--

After checking his weapon, Whitney sat in the interrogation room again, this time counting the tiles on the ceiling, waiting for them to hurry up and bring Billy in here.

The door opened and he shuffled in. Nodding to the guards, they took the shackles off again, leaving the two in the room. "Hey Billy, heard you had something for me."

Nodding quickly, Billy sat down. "I… I heard something. Someone's talking about what happened."

Whitney nodded. "Any chance you could tell me who was talking?"

"N-no. I've tried to lay low, I don't know a lot of the guys in here. But, I saw his arm, he had this…" Billy gestured to his forearm. "It was like a dragon."

Whitney nodded. "Alright, what was he bragging?"

Billy gulped. "He was saying… someone pulled this to send a message. A new player around there."

Nodding, Whitney looked around. "Luthor. This is a statement."

Billy's eyes went wide. "Do you really think that's possible?"

Whitney sighed. "Like father, like son." He looked up. "Present company excluded."

Billy just nodded, a small smile almost curling his lip. "It's fine. I understand. Do you think… can you find him now?"

Standing up, Whitney walked to the door. "I'm hoping. Thanks Billy, keep your ear out."

"I will." Billy shook his head. "It sucks. As messed up as it was, Clark was nice to me. No one deserves this, shot and kidnapped."

Whitney stopped right when he reached up to knock. "What did you say?"

Billy looked up at the deputy's back. "I just said it sucks, him getting kidnapped. No one deserves it."

Whitney turned slowly. "You said shot." He stared Billy in the eye. "We don't know if he was actually shot. That wasn't even mentioned in the news reports."

Billy stammered, looking around and shrugging. "I just… I mean, I heard…" He sighed, his twitching stopped. Billy looked up from the table, his lip curling into a grin. His voice came out, deep and smooth. "Damn. Pushed it too far."

Whitney's eyes widened. "What did you do?"

"Me?" he gestured to himself, putting on an innocent face. "I didn't do anything, I've been here for months. How could I have anything to do with Clark getting snatched at Crater Lake."

Whitney rushed to the table, kicking it. "Where is he?!"

Billy smiled wider. "Temper temper. What would Kyle think if he saw daddy screaming like this?"

"You son of a bitch, you don't talk about my son."

"He's a cute kid Whitney. And Lana?" He gave a wolf whistle. "She was always so sweet to me, the new guy, nervous around new people. How's her Aunt Nell doing?"

Whitney jumped over the table, grabbing Billy by the collar and slamming him into the wall. "Tell me where he is you bastard! Where's Clark?!"

Billy kept grinning, and whispered, "Don't worry, you'll get him back…eventually. And hey, your family's safe… until then."

Whitney pulled him back and twisted, slamming Billy onto the metal table. "Talk you prick, what did you do?! Where is he?!"

The guards made it into the room, pulling Whitney off of Billy, having to struggle to get him out of the room.

Billy smiled and waved. "Bye Whitney, nice talking to you again. Give Lana a hug and kiss for me."

"I'll kill you! You son of a bitch, I'll kill you Billy! I'll rip you damn head off, lemme go! You're dead Billy! You touch them, you're dead! If Clark dies, you die!" Whitney fought the guards, trying to get back into the room.

Still struggling, he saw Billy slip back into his timid persona before medics rushed in with another guard. Billy looked up and gave a small wink, just before the door slammed shut.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the support, hope you're still enjoying. R & R. Thanks.

--

Whitney carried Kyle into the Sheriff's Department, looking around the room. "Ok buddy, go say hey to mommy, she didn't know you were coming. It's a surprise." He kissed the top of his son's head and patted his back, sending him on his way. "Nell, Dean, you can take your bags into the crash room, Al show them where it is." He turned back to the desk officer. "Is Riley back with Mrs. Kent?"

"He radioed, he's on the way Whitney."

Whitney nodded. "Get everyone back here, right now, got me? I don't care what they're doing, get them back here now." He left the front desk and walked into Clark's office, yanking the over shirt off and tossing it away.

Lois sat up on the sofa, watching him. He hadn't even noticed her. Whitney was pacing, rubbing his hand over his face constantly. Before she could say anything he turned, grabbing the mug from that morning off his desk and throwing it against the wall, shattering it.

"Whoa. No form of beverage holder is safe against you is it?"

He looked back at her, "Sorry."

"It's fine. Did you find out anything?" She stood up from the couch, walking over to him.

He started to talk, but then he just pointed to the bullpen. "I'm rounding everyone up, then I'll tell you what I found."

Lois nodded and walked out of the office, surprised to see Mrs. Kent and Kyle here.

Whitney sat on the edge of the desk, playing over the thoughts rushing around in his head. He didn't even notice someone calling his name, finally snapping out of his thoughts when he saw Ian standing right in front of him. "Everyone's here I said. Are you ok Whitney?"

He just shook his head. "Thanks." Walking out of the office, Whitney stood at the front of the room. "Ok, everyone, settle down, this is important." He looked around and saw his wife holding Kyle. "Lana, maybe you could take Kyle to get something to snack on?"

She looked at him, her head tilted slightly, and nodded. She took Kyle's hand and walked to the break room with him. Whitney watched his family walk out of the room and sighed. Rubbing his face, he turned back to the rest of the room. "Ok. You all know what's been goin on with Clark." Murmurs floated through the room and he looked over to see Lois sitting with Mrs. Kent. He gave them a quick nod. "We thought we had a line of information coming out of the prison in Metropolis, but we can't trust it."

Lois' head snapped up to look at him, and he heard Riley muttering something less than kind.

Whitney took a deep breath. "Our informant, Billy a.k.a. Morgan Edge, Jr. is behind the kidnapping."

The other officers stood up, shouting in disbelief and others threatening the punk.

Whitney held his hands out to calm everyone again. Lois spoke up above the rest. "How do you know that?"

He sighed. "He knew information that hasn't been given out yet. And he admitted it to me. Billy isn't the nervous little rookie we all thought he was. I don't know if he was playing us back then to get back at daddy, or if he's had a change of heart now and wants to join the business. What better way to make dad proud than take out the man who busted him."

He coughed, clearing his throat. "The other part of it is that… Billy made threats against my family. All the way to Lana's aunt. And he made it pretty clear that Clark wasn't the end of it. He didn't name other names, but I'm not taking any chances. Until this is done, this department is open to any and all family members, and it will be locked down tight, got me? We watch out for each other, we cover each other, this extends to our wives, kids, even our In-laws, as much as that might pain some of you guys. If you want them here, get them now. We'll figure something out with space, but this is non-negotiable. Get to it."

He walked back into Clark's office and sat at the desk, putting his head in his hands. He was exhausted and it was barely noon. The door swung open and Lois walked in, followed by Ian and Riley. Whitney felt a weird sense of déjà vu. This was getting to be a regular occurrence. "What's up?"

Riley shut the door. "Are you serious? Billy is behind this?"

Whitney just nodded. "He's… he's twisted. There's something in him that isn't even like his dad. Morgan is quiet and reserved by all accounts, Billy enjoyed the threats." Whitney stood again, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a thumb drive. "I talked them into giving me a copy of the interrogation room footage." Plugging it into Clark's computer, he swung the monitor around after loading it, letting the others watch.

After the video ended, they all looked shocked. "Everything he told us, it was all a false trail. He was sending us the wrong way on purpose. He…" Lois' covered her mouth with her hand, and Whitney could see it in her eyes. She was losing it.

"Ian, Riley, go start looking into bedding and what we need, see if you can get an idea on how many we're going to have here."

The men took the cue and walked out quickly. Whitney stood up slowly. "Lois, don't do this."

She met his gaze, her eye's trembling. "It's…we've lost time. He's out there Whitney, and we don't know where, and we don't even know if he's… if they kil…" She crumpled, Whitney reached out and grabbed her, holding her up.

He hugged her tight, feeling his own hold breaking down from seeing her lose it. "They haven't done that yet. Billy's having too much fun with this. He hasn't done anything yet. And we're going to find Clark. We haven't wasted time on these leads, he slipped up and didn't give us enough time to… waste time." He squeezed her shoulder. "We're gonna find him. I swear Lois, we're gonna find him."

She sniffed, leaning back slowly and wiping at her face. "I just… Whitney I've never even told him that…"

"He knows. Deep down he knows."

She met his eyes. "How do you know that?"

He smiled. "Don't you know it too?"

She stared at him, her mouth open but no words coming out. After a moment, she nodded.

"There you go. Don't let yourself forget it." Whitney gave her another quick hug and walked back around the desk. "Now, are we done with the hugging? Can we work on finding out how this asshole got to Clark from inside prison?"

Lois nodded, sniffling once more and wiping her face. "Has he been writing to anyone?"

Whitney shook his head. "Records show just one person, his old girlfriend. She refuses the letters, they return to the prison unopened."

Lois sat back down. "How about phones? Visitors?"

"Not even his lawyer. Hasn't talked to him since he was convicted."

She sighed. "It's got to be someone in the prison then."

"Ah great. More crooked cops. I'm starting to hate this job!" Whitney grunted. "How do we find out who it could be?"

Lois sat back, biting at her thumbnail. "We need the files of all the guards there. And anyone who can have access to Billy at any point. Can you call another favor with Sawyer?"

Whitney snickered. "We're about to find out." He grabbed the phone and started dialing a now familiar number.

--

The sun had gone down hours ago, and the main office was now full of every file they had asked for. Whitney rubbed his eyes after he finished off a stack on the desk. "Anymore coffee?"

Lois, Ian, Riley and Lana all pointed to the empty coffee maker they had set up on the end table in the corner.

"Just great. Thanks guys, good way to support the leader here." He sat up straighter in the chair. "Any red flags on anyone so far?"

Everyone murmured in the negative. Whitney grabbed another file and started flipping through it.

A while later Ian held up a file. "This guy has access to the entire prison, restricted areas, as much as the Warden."

Whitney hopped up and grabbed the file, glancing at it. "This is Quinn Marcus. Head officer, 30 years in Law Enforcement. I met the guy, could make a drill sergeant piss himself. His hands are both scarred, pulled a perp out of a burning car instead of just letting him burn." Whitney shook his head. "With this record, I don't see him being the guy. Maybe he even has some info that could help us." Sitting at his desk he studied the picture of the grizzled officer. Graying hair, random scars across his face from years of fights. Whitney hoped he'd be able to make it that long on this job without anything worse than this man.

Tossing the file down he rubbed his eyes. "If you guys need some shut-eye, take it. We'll start early in the morning."

Lois stretched out on the couch, Riley and Ian both took bed rolls by the wall. Lana sat in the chair across from the desk, looking at Whitney. She was quiet for a while, letting everyone else settle in. "You have that look."

He glanced up. "What look?"

"The same look you got trying to put together that bicycle for Kyle last Christmas. When you couldn't get the bolts to fit."

He smiled. "Yea well, that fits how I'm feeling right now. This doesn't fit. None of it does. And I got this weird feeling right now."

She sat up, leaning closer. "What kind of feeling?"

He looked at her and then back to the desk. "It's… it's the marmalade feeling."

Lana didn't say a word. She tilted her head, raising a brow. "The marmalade feeling?"

He blew out a long breath. "Did you ever hear how Clark figured out Eric was hiding as Jimmy Olsen?"

She shook her head. "No, I never heard that part, just how he figured out about Billy."

Whitney nodded. "Well, the body we found on the highway that night had a peanut allergy alert medallion. But when they were younger, Clark, Pete and Eric always had peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when they played at the farm. But they each had different jelly or something. Eric liked orange marmalade. So, Clark's at the Daily Planet that week looking for anything he could use as a lead, and he sees Jimmy Olsen eating a peanut butter and orange marmalade sandwich. He feels a hunch, checks the records and Jimmy Olsen is supposed to be allergic to peanuts."

Lana looked shocked. "Seriously? Off of orange marmalade?"

Whitney nodded. "Yup. So that's the marmalade feeling."

She smiled. "So, your gut is telling you that the answer is in here somewhere?"

He nodded.

Lana stood up and kissed Whitney's forehead. "You'll find it. I'm going to go lay down with Kyle. Get some rest."

Whitney nodded as she walked out. Staring at the files, he sighed again. This was stressing him, and stretching the bounds of anything he'd been able to pull off before. But his gut told him there was an answer in here somewhere. "Now where the hell is it?"

Grabbing the stack of Security footage discs, he put the first one in the computer and started going through the files. Everyone who visited Billy, only one other person, and all his interactions with the prison board.

He smirked again as he saw Marcus walk into the frame, accompanying Billy into the room with the board. The prisoner meetings with the board were recorded by hand, not just a set camera on the wall. Whitney watched as they were shackling Billy to the table when the cuff snagged and cut Billy's arm. Someone yelled for the medic and one of the board said for the camera man to move in and document it for legal purposes. Whitney just had to laugh at the bureaucracy.

He saw Marcus lean in to undo the cuff fully and he left a hand-print in the blood. "Wow. Not afraid of anything." Whitney was about to cut the disc off when something caught his eye. "What the…?" Backing it up, he stared closer. He needed to clean this picture up. "Ian!"

The exhausted physician sat straight up. "It wasn't me, dad blew up the dishwasher!"

Whitney stared at him. "What the hell kind of dreams do you have?"

Ian shook his head, rubbing his face. "Really strange ones about power tools. What's up?"

"Get over here, I need someone good with computers."

Ian stumbled over a half awake Riley and leaned in. "What's up?"

"I need to see this, but better. Clean it up." Whitney pointed to a spot on the screen.

Ian sighed. "Whitney, this program only has very basic editing abilities. I don't know if I can get it much better."

Whitney stood up and pushed him into the chair. "I don't need a miracle, I just need something Ian. Please?"

He nodded and started to work. Whitney paced in front of the desk, waiting impatiently.

After ten minutes, he walked over. "Anything?"

"I got the resolution cleaned up a little, but it's not great."

Whitney leaned in, staring at the picture on the screen. He nodded slightly. "That's enough… come on, we're going to Metropolis."

--

Head Officer Quinn Marcus left his office, heading for the main area of the prison reception floor. He had gotten a call that he was being asked for. Rubbing his hand over his hair, he sighed. What was anyone doing looking for him at 3 am?

Walking out of the restricted area, he saw Deputy Fordman, along with Captain Sawyer, and a shorter man. "Deputy, I thought we were fairly clear on our feelings about this situation the last time you were here?"

Whitney just nodded. "Yea well, someone tells you that he had your boss kidnapped and then threatens your family, you lose it a little."

Marcus glared at him. "Not in my prison you don't. You need discipline, and apparently they don't teach that down in Smallville."

Whitney set his jaw. "I'm sorry Officer. I lost my head, I admit. But we need to see Billy Mortenson now."

Marcus chuckled. "Not gonna happen. Come back during normal hours. You're not getting any favors here Deputy."

His face twitching, Whitney nodded. "Fine." He reached out for his weapon on the counter where he had to check it, but it slipped from his grasp. Trying to grab it, he knocked it over near Marcus' feet. "Damn. All out of sorts today."

Marcus glared again as he knelt, picking the pistol up and handing it over to Whitney. "Show some respect to your equipment."

Whitney just smirked as he gripped the pistol by the barrel lightly. "I always do." He handed it off behind him to Ian, already prepared with gloves and a basic kit. Ian took the gun and set it on the counter, dusting something over the grip.

"What the hell is going on here?" Marcus stared at Ian. "What's he doing?"

Whitney didn't answer, he just grinned. "Getting anything Ian?"

Ian pulled a strip of paper out and laid it on the barrel, pulling it away after he pressed it into place. "It's… the same impression." He turned to Whitney.

Whitney smiled bigger. "How about that?"

Marcus stared at the deputy, then he looked to the captain. "Are you going to tell me what exactly is going on here?"

Captain Sawyer arched her brow. "I'm backing Deputy Fordman on this."

Whitney held up a picture. "You wear contacts Officer Marcus?"

"No. Perfect vision."

Whitney looked impressed. "Wow, perfect vision, and your eyes can switch from green to brown."

Marcus blinked, and he shifted his weight. "What's the meaning of this?"

"You made one other mistake. The hair." Whitney held up an older photograph from a newspaper clipping. "The real Quinn Marcus had a receding hairline along his temples, he just wore his hair longer, it covered it up. You have a nice solid hairline. So, let's talk. Where's the real Officer Marcus?"

The grizzled looking man's hand went to his holster immediately.

Whitney thrust the tips of his fingers against the fake's windpipe, dropping him to the ground, gasping. Whitney just stared. "Captain Sawyer, your jurisdiction." Whitney stepped away to let her do the arrest, and turned to the female officer at the main desk who was still staring at the scene wide-eyed. "You might need to call your Warden and get him down here. It's gonna be a busy day."


	5. Chapter 5

Just to warn you folks, there's going to be some darker content in this chapter dealing with the past. I've tried to approach it tactfully, I hope you agree. I own nothing here.

--

The Warden sat at his desk, his chin propped on his hand. It had been a very bad morning so far, and the sun wasn't even up. He had been called at home to find out that who he thought was a dedicated and respected officer he trusted was a fake, one of his prisoners was running the remains of a criminal empire from his jail, and all of this happened under his nose. With a sigh, he looked across the desk at the deputy who had brought all of this to his attention. "So what is it you want exactly, Deputy Fordman?"

"I want Billy Morganton brought back to Smallville, so me and my people can get to the bottom of this."

The warden sat up. "With all due respect, my prison is more suitable for such an endeavor, and there is no precedent for such a request."

Whitney shifted in his seat, doing his best to not blow up at the man. They had been discussing this for over an hour, and the warden was still looking down on the small town policeman without giving the idea much serious thought. "With all due respect warden, this has been going on at your prison for 8 months. The fake Marcus transferred in nearly a year ago, meaning that a respected officer lost his life and no one even knew about it. Now I won't hide it, we all got played by a smart guy who pretended to be a scared punk that got pushed into a bad situation. Billy sold out his father and played up the timid act to keep himself out of maximum security even though his actions led to the death of one man and the attempted murders of at least six others."

Whitney held back the smirk, barely. "And as much as it might pain you to admit it, me and my people, including our boss that we're trying to find now, led the operation that brought down Morgan Edge. You give me the chance now, I'll take down Junior."

The warden didn't react so nicely to having the faults of the last months tossed back at him. "Deputy, I understand your reasoning here, but I still don't see what you think your people will be able to…"

Whitney slapped his hand on the desk, standing and leaning over it. "I get that your ego might not want to take the hit, but this isn't the time for all of that. Someone involved with the Edge syndicate was in your prison with access to everything. Prisoner records, access to their mail and personal effects, access to employee records and guards personal information. They could have information on everyone of your people and their families, and it went on right under your nose. I might just be a hick country cop, but I know a big city reporter with a very big mouth, and I won't hesitate to use that. How do you think that will go over if it gets out before the people responsible for this are caught warden?"

The warden glared back at him, understandably less than pleased with the threat offered up before him. Staring back at the deputy, he was even further unnerved when the man didn't back down. He cut his gaze over to Captain Sawyer over in the corner. "And you're perfectly fine with this blackmail I suppose?"

Captain Sawyer just grinned. "Sheriff Kent and his men haven't disappointed me yet. As I said before, I'm backing Deputy Fordman here. He has the support of the Metropolis Police Department, and access to several of my most dedicated and trusted officers to make sure that Morganton is fully secured during his time in the Smallville station."

The warden realized he was alone on his side of the argument. Looking back to the deputy, he sighed. "I need a few hours to arrange the papers and the men for transport. Is there anything else I can do for you until that's ready?"

Whitney shook his head. "Actually, Metropolis PD will be handling the transport. The men and the truck are waiting downstairs. Nothing personal against your men sir, but the whole 'infiltration' situation, you understand I'm sure."

Taking a deep breath to hide his displeasure, the warden just nodded. "Fine then, let me get the papers pulled up for you."

Whitney grinned. "Thank you sir, we'll be waiting downstairs."

--

Billy was led through the doors outside of the prison, the early morning air hitting him with a chill as the wind picked up. The cocky grin wasn't there, replaced with a sour disposition. The guards led him to the back of the Metropolis PD prisoner transport but Whitney stepped in front of him, smiling.

"Hey Billy. Ready to go home buddy?"

Billy glared, finally forcing a grin to his lips. "Proud of yourself here Whitney? You pulled one over on the big city, congratulations. Gonna ride with me on the way back?"

Whitney just shook his head. "Nah, I'd rather wait until we were back in Smallville for the official reunion. Besides…" He leaned in closer, whispering to the smaller man. "My station… less witnesses." Whitney patted the guard's shoulder. "Load him up boys, we gotta get on the road."

Ian and Captain Sawyer stood over by Whitney's cruiser, watching him say something to Billy and then smile as he walked over. "You think we're close now?" Ian spoke up first.

Whitney sighed. "We're closer if nothing else." He looked to the captain. "Are your guys ready to roll?"

She nodded. "Two will be in the transport, one in the back with Billy, and two will be riding with me back to your station."

Whitney nodded, rubbing his hand over his neck. "Thank you ma'am."

The captain walked over and patted Whitney's shoulder. "You're doing great. Don't start doubting yourself now."

Whitney sighed. "Thank you." Opening the door, he looked at Ian. "Get in geek boy, we're going home."

Ian rolled his eyes and climbed in the passenger's side. "You know, it really downplays my credibility when you call me 'geek boy' in front of other people Whitney. This is my job too, I work with these people sometimes."

Whitney turned the car on and set the heat to warm up. Taking a deep breath he turned his head. "I guess I shouldn't say stuff like that around other folks, huh?"

Ian shook his head, letting out a humph. "Never mind, it's no big deal."

"No, you're right. Look Ian, I might still call you geek boy or things like that, and I might have been sort of a jerk to you back in high school now and then, but that's changed. Look, I know the work you've done for us, and I know how much you've helped out. You're one of the three other people who have had as little sleep as me and been working their asses off since we found that box in the cemetery. And we wouldn't be this far right now if you couldn't work magic with a computer. Yea, I give you shit, but at this point it's mostly because I consider you… you know… part of the crew."

Ian looked over with a surprised look, skepticism still showing on his face. "Oh really?"

Whitney nodded. "Really. You haven't given up on Clark. And even though I probably haven't given you much reason, you haven't given up on me either." Whitney held his hand out. "Thank you."

Shocked, Ian reached over and shook Whitney's hand. "That… that means a lot Whitney. Thanks."

Whitney nodded again. "To me too. Now, let's go finish this." Putting the car in gear, Whitney pulled out of the space and fell in behind the transport. "But I'm still gonna call you geek boy now and then. I'll just try to keep it limited to private encounters."

Ian laughed. "Oh Whitney, you sweet talker you. But I'm married, so don't get your hopes up with pretty words."

Whitney chuckled. "Oh I know you are, trust me I was shocked when I met her. For a nerd you pulled off one hell of a catch there."

--

Whitney walked through the station, already prepared for the upset reporter that was rushing at him. "Where the hell have you two been? I woke up and you're gone, no note, no one knows where you went? What is going on here Whit…?" She stopped when she saw the armed guards leading Billy into the building. Whitney had to grab her so she wouldn't jump at him. "What is he doing here?"

Whitney turned to the guards. "Interrogation room, first door on the right." After they passed, he turned back to Lois. "Ian helped me find the mole in the prison. We had the warden over a barrel, so now we have access to Billy. And we're gonna find out where Clark is."

They stood outside of the interrogation room, watching the smug man as he sat there. Whitney stared, watching the little bastard. He thought he was in the clear and on top of things, but Whitney was ready to bring that falling down around his head. "Lois, you feel up to talking to him first?"

"Is that really a good idea?"

They all turned to see a familiar face. "Ross, what are you doing here?" Whitney hopped off the table and walked over, shaking hands with his old friend.

Pete gave him a tired smile. "Word finally reached us in Topeka, we've been in assembly. No way am I not going to be here for this."

Whitney smiled. "Thanks. Do you have anything we can use against him? Don't even act like you haven't already studied everything about this case."

Pete sighed. "The truth is we don't really have anything on him. The deal he made with the courts from the original case can't be touched. And the truth is we don't have anything that will link him to Clark's disappearance that will stand up in court."

Whitney's anger flared. "Wait a damn minute, that son of a bitch told me he was involved Pete!"

Pete held his hands up. "I'm not doubting you Whitney. And I know he's involved, if you say he is that's good enough for me. The fact of the matter is the courts see it as you physically provoking a confession from him since he refuted the statements as soon as you were gone. He said he was afraid for his life."

Whitney rubbed a hand over his face, his voice and body shaking. "So it's me. I fucked this up. Our only lead and we have no legal standing here."

Pete sighed… and shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry. Nothing he said before now can be used. But if you can get him to talk now, and not bend the rules, we can use it to nail the bastard."

Whitney nodded quickly. "Lois, get in there."

Pete looked at him again. "Whitney, are you sure that's a good idea?"

"She's got a badge Pete, good enough for me. If it's not for you, go get a cup of coffee."

Pete just nodded. "Officer Lane." He gestured to the door.

Lois smirked, turning to the door.

"Captain Sawyer, if you don't mind going with her? Someone is less likely to refute anything you find."

Sawyer nodded and moved to the door with Lois. "Just like old times, huh?"

Lois smiled and opened the door, slamming it behind the two of them.

--

Billy smiled as the two women walked into the room. "Ladies. Nice to see you again."

Neither moved, or let his smooth demeanor affect their outward appearance. Lois pulled the chair across from him out and sat down.

He chuckled. "Good cop, bad cop?"

Lois shook her head. "No Billy. You're obviously too smart for all of that. No, this is just going to be about the facts."

He smiled again. "Well you'd need to have the facts for that to work."

Lois crossed her hands on the table. "You see, I think that you've been playing us since before your father was arrested. I think the timid little boy who wet himself was all an act, a good one, but still just an act. It has to be hard growing up with a dad like Morgan Edge, trust me I know about obsessive fathers who only care about their work."

Billy shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I loved my daddy Miss Lane. He was there for my softball games, and he always gave me good Christmas presents, and he tucked me in at night."

Lois stared back at him. "Uh huh. Well that is sweet Billy. You're lucky. So what happened? You felt so bad about leading to daddy's downfall that you conjured all of this up in order to get back in his good graces? Hurt the people who busted him and he'll forgive you?"

Billy sniffled. "I just want my daddy to love me again."

Lois shook her head. "Wow, you are truly full of shit aren't you?"

Billy wiped at fake tears. "Wh-what do you mean?"

Leaning back, Lois crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, I guess I could buy that maybe you had to toughen up after going into prison. Cute guy like you, little on the small side, some guys must have been REALLY happy to see you walk into the mess that first day."

Billy's face twitched just slightly. "No one ever made the mistake of trying that."

Lois smiled. "Oh Billy, it's ok, you can talk about it. I've heard it helps to talk, right Captain?"

Sawyer nodded. "The shrinks call it therapeutic."

Billy didn't say a word, but his eye twitched again. "That never happened to me."

"Well that's hard to believe. I mean, you went in there with everyone fully aware that you ratted out your dad, so none of his people would be willing to help you out. You led to most of them being incarcerated too. I bet a few of them were more than willing to break in the new guy."

Billy twisted his head to the side slightly, huffing out a breath. "I had friends. They made sure that didn't happen."

Lois looked surprised. "Friends? A cop who turned out to be a stoolie against his big crime boss father has friends on the inside? Forgive me if I'm unwilling to accept that so easily."

"Accept whatever you want, but it's true."

"Billy, if it's too awkward to talk to a woman about this, we can get a guy in here. But you need to tell us who it was that did this to you, we'd hate to get a guy who looked like one of your shower room Romeos and dredge up some old, hostile feelings."

Both his fists slammed down on the table. "That didn't happen bitch!"

Lois sat back, shock written on her face. "Wow, hostile. So if it didn't happen, I guess you had someone waiting inside before you even got there, someone who put the word out to leave you alone? Someone high up?"

Billy opened his mouth… and then smirked. "Nice try. Really, that was good. But I didn't know anyone when I got in there Miss Lane. I'm just good at making friends."

Lois' face twitched now, and her body shook. She was angry. "We know you planted the fake in Marcus' place. What, he looked enough like the officer and you saw the beginning to your plan? How much did you have to pay him to actually burn his whole hands to hide his fingerprints?"

Billy shrugged. "I'm not sure what you're talking about. I was shocked to hear that Officer Marcus was a phony. That's the problem with the world, no trust these days."

Lois moved in a flash, leaning over the table and slapping Billy hard enough to almost send his chair over. Only the chains held him in place long enough to let him regain his balance.

Captain Sawyer was already pulling Lois to the door when Billy laughed. "That wasn't smart. I have one heck of a lawsuit available to me now, thank you 'officer' Lane."

Once the door shut, Lois shrugged the captain off, pacing the hall. "So close, we were so close!"

Whitney grabbed her by the arms, trying to get her to calm down. "That was great Lois. You almost had it. I never would have thought of using that tactic."

She huffed. "Yea well, any egomaniac who considers himself a crime boss in the making would get pissed at someone thinking he was a butt buddy in prison, even more so if it was said out loud."

Whitney had to chuckle a little, but the seriousness of all of this came back quickly. He turned to Pete. "He's not going to give us anything is he?"

Pete sighed. "He knows he has us. He's in the clear on this. If he was already putting this all together from the beginning, he's covered his tracks. I'm not even sure testimony from the imposter would do much against Billy at this point. Someone who knowingly posed as a respected officer and is most likely responsible for his death against a guy who has no proven criminal history and gave information that lead to Morgan Edge's fall. It won't stand up."

Whitney looked back into the room, seeing the smug look on Billy's face. He felt the rage boil in his gut, but he pushed it down with practiced ease. "Then I don't know what to do now."

He walked past everyone down the hall, disappearing around a corner without another word.

--

Several hours had passed since Whitney disappeared. Lana sat in the passenger seat of Riley's cruiser as it pulled down the old dirt lane and she finally released a nervous sigh when she saw the car parked near the barn. "Thank God."

Riley pulled in behind it and started to get out, but a hand on his arm stopped him. "Let me go in there."

He nodded to Lana and sat back in the seat.

Stepping out, she walked through the snow, pulling her jacket tighter around her. She knew where he'd be, it made perfect sense.

Walking up the creaky steps to the loft, Lana saw Whitney sitting on the sill of the window, his leg propped up as he watched the gray sky. "We were worried about you."

He didn't move.

Walking over to him, she sat down on the sill herself. "Whitney, it's not your fault."

He kept staring out into the snowy field. He blinked, the only sign that he was even coherent.

Lana laid her hand on his knee. "Whitney please, talk to me."

"You remember when I first got back?"

She looked up to his face, but he was still staring out at the field. She nodded slightly. "Yes. You were… having a hard time adjusting."

Whitney laughed. It was a dry, dead laugh. "I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be in Smallville, I didn't want to see anyone. I hated being in that damn chair, I hated the pitying faces I saw everywhere. I didn't want to be around you. You deserved better than a crippled failure."

Lana sniffled, holding back the tears his words brought up, the old memories. "Whitney, you weren't a failure."

"The only thing I'd ever been good at and I got hurt doing it. So I lost it. I lost my purpose. I couldn't even stand to take a piss without almost crying, and good soldiers don't cry. So I made it not hurt."

Lana looked back at him again. "What do you mean?"

Shutting his eyes for a moment, he finally turned to look at her. "You never noticed the pills did you?"

She licked at her lip. "I know you were given some when you came home, and I saw you take one now and then."

He scoffed. "Now and then." He turned to look back out the window. "I was popping them by the hour almost."

Her eyes went wide, shocked to hear him say that. "But Whitney, you…"

"I got to the point it didn't hurt at all. I didn't need the chair. But it was easier. It was easier to stay in that chair and be pitied than to try and fail at something again."

He took a deep breath, not looking back. "Remember the week you went to Metropolis because Nell had to have surgery? The woman who raised you was going into something that major, and I couldn't even make myself care enough to get up off my ass and be there for you." He chuckled to himself. "I almost hoped you'd just wise up and stay there. I didn't deserve a wife like you, that's for sure."

She scooted closer to him, but he held his hand up. "You left that morning, and there was a knock on the door an hour later. It was Clark. He asked me if I wanted to come out to the farm, it was a nice day, he had some time off and needed a break from the speeding tickets and the teens trying to buy beer. I said no, but he kept persisting, so I finally agreed."

Whitney looked around the barn. "He wheeled me in here, right about where the tractor is, and then he tipped the chair up and sprawled me on my ass in the dirt."

Lana gasped.

"I wasn't hurt. I was so high I wouldn't have felt it if he tipped me down the stairs. But Clark just stood over me and told me to get up. I said I couldn't because of my hip, but he wasn't listening. I got up and he pushed me up these stairs. And he gave me a choice. He was going to run my ass in for possession of a controlled substance, or he was going to make sure I cleaned up."

Lana shook her head, confused. "A controlled substance?"

He finally looked over to her. "You don't go through six times the prescribed pills getting them from a pharmacist Lana."

Her face fell. "Whitney, you bought them illegally?"

He just nodded. "It's actually not that hard to find, even in Smallville." He coughed. "So, he told me my options, and I just laughed. Told him he wouldn't that to me, I was his friend. And he told me that his friend disappeared years ago, I was just the guy who came back. I told him it wasn't his business, and tried to walk out, and he slammed me to floor right there. He said it went on long enough, and he wasn't going to just stand back and let me kill myself… or hurt you anymore."

Lana didn't say a word.

"He could see how bad it was, and how hard it was for you, but you never said a word. He pulled me up and carried me into the house, I mean like I was… Shelby or something. And he locked my ass in that house for the rest of the week. He never left. He took the pills, and he stayed with me. And it hurt, god it hurt so bad when the pills wore off. I begged him, I cried, I pleaded… but he said no. I tried to get them from him, I hit as hard as I could, but I wasn't strong. I let it all go when I got back here."

He got quiet, and Lana sat quietly, letting him keep going.

"He locked me in the downstairs closet one night. I rested up that day and I did my best to get out of the house. I broke his nose with my elbow, but he tossed me in there, I think he leaned against that door all night. And the things I said to him… I hate myself when I think about it. I talked about Kyla… and I threw you in his face, how I managed to keep you from halfway across the world and he couldn't find a girl that would stay with him. And I… I talked about… Mr. Kent." His voice broke, and she saw his eyes water. Lana wanted to hold him and tell him it was ok but she knew he wasn't done.

Whitney banged his head against the board behind him. "I told him he was a do-gooder just like his damn father. And you know what he said? He said Jonathan would have done the same thing he was doing for me. He said that's what you do for family. And that broke me. All that I'd done, the things I said to him, and he was still my brother. He wanted to help me."

Whitney straightened up, wiping his sleeve across his face. "So that weekend when you got home, I was out of the chair, and I tried to clean the place up. And my hip was killing me but I didn't take another pill. I had them hidden around the house, but I didn't take any. I had to use the chair now and then but I was trying. And the next week Clark offered me a job. Not a rookie, but his second in command. I thought the guys would hate me, but they all welcomed me in. And you and me got stronger, and it felt like it used to, like we were really together in love. And then Kyle came along, and I had the perfect life. I had my family, and my friends, and a job that made me feel good."

Lana nodded, reaching over to squeeze his hand.

"I owe everything to Clark. And now he needs my help. And… I'm not gonna say that I can't do anything, because I know I can. But I don't know if I want to risk everything for it."

Lana moved closer to him. "Whitney, what do you mean? How is it a risk?"

He squeezed her hand. "You asked me once what I did over there and I asked you never to bring that up again. Lana… I know how to get the truth here, but it means opening a door I shut seven years ago. And if I do, I don't know if I'm strong enough to close it back. I don't know if it's possible again."

Lana just nodded. Standing, she walked over to his side and knelt down, wrapping her arms around her husband. "No one can decide that except for you. And I'm not going to use guilt, or try to convince you to do it. But Whitney, just think about this… if Clark didn't put his friendship and his love for you on the line and take that chance, would you have any of what you're so worried about losing now?"

He shut his eyes tightly, taking a deep breath. Lana hugged him once more and kissed his cheek. "I love you. Kyle loves you. Your friends love you. And nothing will change that. Just think about it." With that, she stood up and walked to the stairs, heading down and leaving Whitney alone with his thoughts.

The sun moved across the sky behind the gray clouds. Whitney finally moved, shifting around from his seat at the window. He stared at the floor of the loft, and then knelt down, pulling the old rug back and looked at a faded dark spot on the wood. The blood where he busted Clark's lip struggling in that first moment. Sighing, Whitney let the rug fall back into place and moved to the stairs.

--

Hope no ones too upset with me now. Please review and let me know.


	6. Chapter 6

Whitney walked back into the hallway outside of the interrogation room, sliding his jacket off and putting it on the table across from the door. "Has he said anything else?"

Lois shook her head and Pete just grunted.

Nodding slowly, Whitney turned to the door. "Everyone leave."

"What? Why?" Pete stared at him, confused.

"Just go. And I don't want anyone watching through this window."

Pete reached out, putting a hand on Whitney's shoulder. "Whitney, you know that if you assault him…"

"I'm not. I don't care if what I find won't stand up for a warrant, I just need the answers Pete. But I don't need people breathing down my neck. So, go get something to eat, take a nap, play solitaire on the computer, I don't care what you do. But don't come back here until I come out."

Pete looked over to Lois. She looked like she wanted to say something, but she stood up and started walking down the hall. Looking back to his friend, Pete nodded and started after her.

Whitney pointed to the guard outside the door. "End of the hall. Make sure no one comes down, understand?"

The guard just nodded and started walking away as well.

Whitney looked through the window at the smug little prick. Pulling his holster from his belt he laid the gun on the table with his jacket, and then his badge. Looking down he saw a pen on the table and slipped it into his pocket.

Stepping into the room Whitney reached up immediately and pulled the cord for the camera.

Billy chuckled. "More interrogation tactics Deputy? I'm supposed to be afraid because there's no record of this?"

Whitney didn't say a word. He pulled the chair across from Billy out and sat down silently.

Billy stared back at Whitney, smirking. "So what's the point here? Lois was the good cop, you're the bad cop?"

Whitney sat up a little bit straighter. "Do you remember when you used to ask me what I did in the military before I came back here Billy?"

Rolling his eyes, Billy nodded. "Yea, what about it?"

"And I told you it was all just boring stuff, training, practice, going through the motions."

"Yea, what about it?"

Whitney took a deep breath. "Billy, I lied. The truth is, if anyone ever figures out what I did over there I know no one would ever look at me the same way again."

Billy started laughing. "Oh, big bad soldier, trying to scare me."

Reaching into his pocket, Whitney pulled the pen out and put it on the table.

Staring at it, Billy raised his brow. "So what, this is the point I sign some confession because you're so mysterious and scary?"

"Did you take anatomy Billy?"

Billy sighed loudly. "What the hell are you talking about Whitney?"

Reaching out quickly, Whitney pulled Billy's arm across the table with his palm and wrist facing up. Before Billy could move the tip of the pen was pressing into the biggest vein. "Do you know how easy it is to tear into this vein? As simple as clicking this pen. One push of my thumb, and you're screwed." Whitney's face never shifted as he talked, never baring any emotion.

Billy pushed the smug sneer back onto his face. "We both know you wouldn't do it."

Dropping the pen, Whitney leaned over and pulled the back of Billy's shirt, slamming him onto the table. Stepping onto the chair, he spun around and pinned Billy's arm down at the shoulder with his knee. Grabbing the pen again, Whitney pressed it inside his upper arm. "Brachial artery. Pumps six times the amount of blood your body holds in a minute." Without getting off the table he spun the pen around and jabbed it into Billy's leg. "Femoral artery. Same story."

Spinning on his knee quickly, Whitney slid off the table and pulled Billy's head back, pressing the pen against his throat. "Jugular. We all know what that does." Letting go, Whitney stepped back.

Billy scrambled off the table, breathing hard, his eyes wide and betraying the fright he just felt so quickly. "What the hell is wrong with you?! That's assault! You tried to kill me!"

Whitney smiled, just barely, for the first time. "No. If I tried, you wouldn't be talking right now."

Billy sneered. "I always knew you were stupid Whitney. Tagging along because your best friend wanted a whipping boy. You're a joke. Just because you watched some shitty spy movie on TV doesn't make you some super soldier."

Whitney slowly walked around the table, coming closer to the prisoner.

"What are you doing? Stay away from me. I'll scream for someone, you'll lose your badge!"

"I'm not wearing a badge now Billy. You've got to be more observant."

Billy swallowed and stepped back, only to hit the wall. "Whatever you're trying, it won't work."

Whitney shrugged. "Who said I was trying anything? I just want to make something clear to you Billy. I figure that the night before your dad got taken down, Clark came in to talk to you, right?"

Billy just nodded.

"And I know he was concerned about whether we were walking into a trap. So the best I can figure, he made you a... promise, in order to show you that he was very serious about protecting our own people. Am I right?"

Slowly, Billy nodded again.

Whitney nodded his head in return. "Well Billy, you can rest assured that if Clark made those promises, he would damn sure follow through with them. Deep down in that black little heart of yours, do you believe that?"

His jaw shaking, Billy finally spoke. "I think he'd try."

"Oh, he'd do more than try, you know it. But that's the difference between Clark and Me. He made that promise, and he would carry it out no matter what it took out of him. But me?" Whitney took the last step, putting him right in Billy's face, staring down into the eyes of the "mastermind" behind all their problems. "I've done it."

Despite his bravado, Billy shook hearing those words.

Whitney smiled a little bit. "The trick is making it look like there was never anyone in that room besides the target. An accident shaving. Slipping in the shower. It's all pretty easy to set up if you're in the right frame of mind. But every now and then, you'd want to send a message. And that's when you wanted them to know you were there. That vein in your wrist? So easy to puncture and drain you. But if I was a little off the mark? Or if I didn't make it clean? That's when you'd lay here on the floor for hours, bleeding out slowly."

Billy shrank back against the wall, sliding down it some, but Whitney followed him. "Or, it's easy enough to pierce the jugular and the trachea at once. That makes it harder for you to call for help with your lungs and mouth filling with blood."

Billy's teeth chattered when he tried to talk at first. "You… I can't tell you anything if you do that to me though."

Shutting his eyes for a moment, Whitney steeled his nerve. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a folded envelope, holding it in front of him. "I never said a thing about doing it to you Billy."

Staring at the envelope, Billy's eyes went even wider. "You… you wouldn't."

"If you honestly believe that, then get your coward ass off the floor and spit in my face. Hit me. Tell me to go screw myself. Do something besides shit yourself on my floor."

Billy looked at the letter one more time, then back at Whitney.

--

Whitney left the interrogation room walking straight for the bullpen. Bypassing the other officers and some of their family, he looked around, red eyes searching for his family.

He saw Lana and Kyle at his desk, talking with Lois and Pete. Walking to them, he picked Kyle up and grabbed Lana's hand, heading for Clark's office. The door shut behind them and Whitney hit his knees, holding his son tightly against him and clinging to his wife.

Kyle looked confused, but he hugged his dad back tightly, wrapping his arms around his neck. Lana knelt beside him, stroking Whitney's hair and whispering to him that it was ok.

"Daddy? Is Uncle Clark ok?"

Whitney pulled back and looked into his son's eyes. Putting a smile on through the tears that finally fell, he nodded. "Uncle Clark's gonna be fine buddy. I promise."

--

They were meeting in the office. Whitney sat behind the desk, staring out at the others. "So what did they say Pete?"

Pete shook his head, anger on his face. "They won't move on it. There's too much speculation they said. With how you got the first information, and the fact there is no video of it, they won't take the chance of the black eye if something goes wrong."

Whitney nodded, staring down again. He scratched his cheek and sighed. "Pete, what if someone went in and took care of things? If someone went in and got Clark out, what would be done to them?"

Pete looked up at him. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

Whitney didn't look up. "If someone was able to get Clark out of there, and he did whatever it took, even if that meant dispatching of hostile forces, what would happen to the guy who went in there?"

Pete shook his head. "You're not listening Whitney. They won't send anyone in there, the government isn't willing to stick its neck out here."

"Pete, I'm just asking what the response would be if it was done."

"Whitney, it doesn't matter, we won't get the resources to…"

Lois interrupted. "Pete… just answer his question."

"But it doesn't make a…" Looking over to Lois, Pete saw her looking elsewhere. Following her gaze, he saw Whitney finally looking up and met his gaze. It clicked. "Oh."

Whitney broke away and looked out the window, seeing the snow fall as the sun moved closer to the horizon.

Pete coughed and sat back, eyes darting around as he thought. "I… I can't promise, but it would most likely be looked at as… let's say self defense if the person felt they were in danger and happened to end up helping a kidnapped victim. That's probably the best I can do Whitney."

He just shook his head, grinning. "Bureaucracy."

Pete stood up and walked over. "Whitney, you're not serious about this, are you?"

"Don't ask questions you shouldn't know the answer to Pete."

Sighing, Pete nodded.

"Could you all step outside for a minute?"

Ian, Riley and Pete all walked out. Lois held back and looked over to Whitney as he sat down and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. She knew enough about him, along with what she saw today, to know the man was taking a big step here and it was one he didn't take lightly. Without a word she slipped out the door and closed it quietly.

Dialing a number he committed to memory a long time ago, Whitney took a calming breath. "Hey. Yea, it's Whitney. I know it's been a long time. Yea. I've been good. No, it's not just a call to catch up… I'm calling in a favor Seeley."

--

Rain fell in sheets, adding to the biting cold of the snow. The cabin stood in the middle of the dark woods, covered with a new blanket of pristine, clean snow. The patter of raindrops and the slight wind were the only sounds except the crunch of boots on the snow. Several men patrolled outside, heavy coats and hats protecting them from the cold night.

Shouldering his weapon, one man rubbed his hands together, trying to warm himself up. Looking around, he blinked the cold rain from his eyes, feeling it almost freeze against skin before he could wipe it away. He turned to check the other tree line when he heard something that didn't fit. Turning back, he was moving the rifle from his shoulder when a white blur popped up in front of him. He felt a hard kick to both of his knees and started to scream before he felt a pressure around his neck. Falling face forward into the snow he realized someone had an arm around his neck, choking him. He tried to lift his gun before he felt a sudden hit between his shoulders and he couldn't move. The darkness took over and he finally stopped trying to struggle.

The man in white rolled the unconscious guard onto his back and sat him up against the tree. Dismantling his gun quickly, he tossed the pieces around the snow drift before he was already moving again.

The second guard had his back turned and his weapon leaned against the tree next to him. The content sigh let the man know the guard was pre-occupied with relieving himself. Slipping up behind him quietly, the man slipped an arm around his neck from behind and bent him backward, cutting off his air before slamming his palm into the guard's chest directly over his heart. The guard felt his heart stutter before he went limp. Holding the pressure a few more seconds, the man let him drop, dismantling his weapon quickly and moving on.

The third guard was paying attention, looking all around as he walked, never letting his attention waver. The sound of footsteps caught his attention and he swung with his weapon at the ready, but he was too late. The man in white grabbed his head and slammed his knee into the guard's face, knocking him out immediately. Scooping the weapon up he broke it down on the run and tossed the pieces around.

Sliding up next to the door, he peered in through the window. Reaching under his coat, he pulled a black pistol outfitted with a suppressor. Making sure it was chambered, he pulled the door open just enough to slip inside.

Moving through the kitchen, he heard footsteps and ducked back. As the guard moved in front of him, he reached out quickly, his hand wrapping around the front of his throat and squeezing, his other arm twisting around the guards before he jerked dislocating the guards shoulder and elbow at the same time. The pistol fell from the guards hand but the man maneuvered his boot to keep it from hitting the floor with a loud clatter. After only a few seconds the guard sank to the floor. Not taking the time to dismantle the gun, he was already on the move.

Peering just around the corner he saw a guard at what he could only assume was the basement door. He needed to get through that door. He waited for his moment, gun at the ready just in case. The sound of a yawn caught his attention and he was moving. The guard noticed him just as his fist came out, catching the guard in the throat. Gasping for air, he felt the next kick snap into the side of his knee, dropping him to one leg, followed by a knee to the forehead and an elbow to the back of his head before he blissfully went to sleep.

Dragging the body out of the way, the man opened the door and stepped down into total darkness. Holstering the pistol he reached inside the jacket again, pulling out a small pair of binoculars. Clicking them on he waited to adjust to the night vision and slowly made his way down the steps. A quick survey of the basement and he saw another guard standing in front of a door, armed and using night vision also. Ducking back he situated the goggles under his outer mask and pulled the weapon again. "Drop the weapon and you can walk out of here."

He heard the guard move, his weapon clicking as he readied it to fire. "Not a good idea. Trust me on that."

"Take a step closer and you're dead, you hear me? I got other people here."

"I know. They're indisposed. Last chance. Throw the gun this way and you can walk out alive."

After a long silence, he heard the clatter of the gun and saw the butt of the weapon slip just past the corner he was behind. Taking a step, he heard one other noise and stopped. Something wasn't right, it was too easy. Pointing the pistol higher up he pulled the trigger twice, the flashes lighting the room up just for a second.

As the guard took aim and fired at the flashes he saw, the man dove along the ground and aimed, firing three more times and he heard the scream. From his cover behind the opposite wall he looked out and saw the guard on the ground, clutching his knee. Moving quickly he kicked the gun away and pressed his foot over the guard's throat. "Key."

Gurgling, the guard just pointed at the door and the man noticed there was only a set of deadbolts. Kicking his foot out, he broke the goggles on the guards face and knocked him out. Moving to the door he undid the bolts quickly and swung the door open, running inside.

Clark was in the corner. He looked like hell. Bruises and dried blood covered his face and a large bandage was wrapped around his left leg, the jeans cut all the way up to the thigh. He saw Clark chuckle and move his head toward the noise. "Get bored already? Didn't think the next beating was due until dawn."

Moving closer, the man knelt down and holstered the weapon. "Expecting someone else bossman?"

Clark's eyes snapped open, looking almost comical in the green glow of the goggles. "Wh-Whitney?"

"Yup. You only signed off for three days, not a week. Someone had to come find you." Whitney reached down and pulled Clark's arm up over his shoulders. "Let's go, people are worried about you."

Clark leaned heavily against his friend, limping on his left leg, feeling the familiar ache. "Whitney… the guard outside the door, where is he?"

"Don't worry, he's out. We need to move before the others start waking up."

Clark pulled against him. "No Whitney, he has something of mine. Where is he?"

Looking over at Clark, Whitney sighed. Moving as quickly as he dared to with Clark, Whitney stopped by the guard. "Straight down."

Clark slowly went to his knee, groaning the whole way. His hands moved over the guard's jacket, then his jeans. Ripping the jacket open, he patted him down and Whitney saw Clark reach into his shirt pocket. "Told you I'd get this back." The guard groaned and Clark reached up the shirt to his collar, pulling the guard up from the ground and slamming him with a head butt. Whitney knew it hard to hurt but he also knew it had to feel good on some level. Clark reached up and Whitney helped him back to his feet, making their way to the stairs.

"What'd he have bossman?"

"Took my wallet. Said thanks for finishing off his car payments. Pussy drives a Mercedes."

Whitney had to laugh. They hadn't managed to break Clark that much was obvious.

They made it upstairs and Whitney pulled the goggles off, blinking to get used to the lower light. Clark was covering his eyes with his hand, being stuck in the darkness the last few days.

Making it out of the cabin, Clark was loosening up enough to walk faster and the cold spurred him on. "How far to the car?"

"Just ¾'s of a mile."

"What the hell Whitney, I got shot in the leg!"

"It's not like I could pull up close for a rescue mission, shut up."

Clark chuckled, but Whitney heard something behind them. He spun around quickly, the pistol already drawn and fired.

The last guard had made it back to his feet and found his backup. But it didn't matter.

Whitney stared at the red spray that marred the white snow and he couldn't move. His hands tightened around the grip of the pistol.

Clark reached out and pushed the gun down from its aimed position. "Whitney?"

Turning to face him, Whitney pulled the mask off, shivering at the biting cold. He couldn't tell what the look on his friend's face meant, and it worried him. "Yea Clark?"

Clark just cracked a smile and looked him in the eye. "Thanks."

Whitney relaxed, feeling the tension slide away. "Not a problem." Reaching out, he helped Clark limp through the snow, heading for the trail to the road. "And thank you."

"No problem Whit. Took your damn time though didn't you?"

Whitney just bit back a laugh. "You're lucky I don't just drop you in the snow, you know that?"

"Please, if Lois found out you got me and then left me to freeze in a snow bank with a bullet in my leg, you'd really need that gun then."

They walked silently through the snow, until… "Ok, you got a point there."

--

Not quite the end, still an epilogue to wrap things up. I hope you enjoyed, and thanks for the support and allowing me to see if I can branch out characters besides just Sheriff Kent. As always, reviews are welcome.


	7. Epilogue The right one

Here's the correct epilogue. There was a snafu, and the epilogue from my first AU was listed. Sorry bout that folks. Enjoy

Epilogue

Whitney carried Kyle through the halls of the Smallville Medical Center, his other arm wrapped around Lana's shoulders. Several days had passed since the rescue, leading to another round of arrests and a complete sweep of the staff at Billy's old prison, leading to the arrest of three planted "officers" that had been brought in under the fake Marcus' watch. Whitney had not been arrested after the rescue after a friend higher up in the government pulled some strings.

Things were going back to normal in the small town finally, and the Smallville Sheriff's Department was in the news for dealing another major blow to the Edge family crime syndicate.

"Daddy, when can Uncle Clark go fishing?"

Whitney just laughed. "As soon as he's feeling all better, we'll all go, how about that buddy?"

The boy gave him a strange look. "Even mommy and Aunt Lois?"

Lana gave her husband a look and he gulped. "That… that is completely up to them buddy. I'm not gonna be the one to tell Lois she can't go with us. Maybe you should try, you're still cute enough she won't take it out on you."

Lana slapped his arm. "Whitney Clarence Fordman, you will not use our child as a guinea pig to break bad news to Lois!"

"What? She's not gonna do anything to him, she loves the kid." Whitney shrugged. "Would you rather she kick my…" Lana's hand slapped over Whitney's mouth.

"I know you're happy your playmate is back, but don't push the goodwill mister."

Whitney licked her palm, sending Lana off looking for a Kleenex and using a few grown up words of her own.

Walking up to the door to Clark's room, Whitney set Kyle down and knocked quickly on the door before walking in… just in time to see Lois on the bed with Clark, catching up on some missed quality time. Fully clothed, thank heavens.

Lana walked in with them and saw the scene in front of her, dropping her cell phone in shock. The clatter finally snapped the two out of their trance and Lois scrambled off the bed quickly. "Hey you guys. Sorry, didn't hear the knock."

Kyle looked around at the adults. "Is Aunt Lois sick too? Why was she on the bed with Uncle Clark?"

Lana looked at Whitney, but he was too busy turning his back to the room and trying not to laugh out loud. Glancing at Clark, they noticed he too was trying to hold back his laughter. Lana sighed and stared up at the ceiling and Lois shook her head. "Boys."

Lois picked Kyle up and hugged him. "Just so you know sweety, you're the most mature guy I know. Never forget that, ok?"

Lana walked over and gave Clark a hug. "We'll take Kyle to the cafeteria for a snack and let you guys catch up." Kissing her husband's cheek, she walked out with the others.

Whitney stood by the door, trying not to smirk at the man in the hospital bed. "Sooo…"

Clark nodded. "Yup."

"Well… obviously that bullet didn't do too much damage downstairs."

"Whitney…"

"Hey, I'm just saying that's a good thing. It'd be pretty harsh if you ended up the Sheriff with a faulty trigger."

"Whitney."

"And I mean the rumors that would get around if you were always shooting blanks…"

"Whitney!"

The deputy fell into the chair by the bed, laughing. "Just giving you a hard time bossman. Calm down."

Clark sighed. Things were quiet for a few moments. "So uh, Lois said you were busy meeting with some of the higher ups after you came and got me out."

He nodded. "Yea, it was a little sticky legally, but it's all fine now."

Clark raised an eyebrow. "Just like that?"

Whitney shrugged. "I might have had a friend in the Bureau who vouched for me."

Clark looked surprised. "You know someone in the Fed?"

"Yea. Is that so shocking?"

"Well, yea it kinda is Whitney. You've never said anything about it before." Clark pushed himself to sit up a little higher in the bed, wincing at the pain in his leg. "No offense."

Whitney held his hand up. "Don't worry about it. It's just… one of those things I don't really talk about these days."

Clark picked up the tone Whitney used. "Yea. I know we've never talked about it, but… that's how you were able to find me wasn't it?"

Whitney nodded, not saying anything.

Clark crossed his arms, looking up at the TV and watching the sports report. He broke the silence. "You shouldn't have done that."

"If I didn't you wouldn't be sitting here Clark."

Taking a deep breath, Clark turned to face him. "You've never said what happened over there, and I've never asked. I do know what it did to you though Whitney. The shape you were in when you came back, that wasn't all just because of your leg or some pills. You were different. You were… dark. You shouldn't have gone back into that just because of me."

Whitney gave a dry chuckle. "Clark, it took the words of a very wise woman to make me realize that if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have anything right now. No family, no job… no son." He sat up, turning to face Clark. "So you look me in the eyes and tell me that I didn't owe it to you to do everything I could to help you."

Clark stared right back at him. "You don't owe me anything. This isn't a thing where we keep score Whitney, it's not like I helped you out, so you owe me something now. I helped you because you needed it. I saw my friend in pain, going down a bad road, and I helped. You had too much to lose!"

"So did you!"

Clark shrank back from the outburst. But Whitney wasn't done.

"You finally found her Clark. You found the woman who can put up with you, who can keep up with you and is as big a smartass as you are. None of us knew she existed, but she's downstairs right now. After all the shit that's happened, you found her. And I'm just supposed to stand back and let you both suffer because I'm afraid of my past? I beat it back once. And if I had to, I'd do it again. But the reason I moved on last time was you. You forced me to wake up and quit hiding."

Clark looked over at the door, then back to Whitney. "I still don't like it."

Whitney shrugged. "Good thing you don't have any sort of say in it then, because it's done. We're both here, we're alive, and we're both back with our families. And don't give me that 'stop saying that, we're just dating' shit. I saw what you disappearing did to Lois last week, and I know if it was reversed you'd have been just as torn up. So stop trying to be in charge and just accept that there are people willing to lay it all on the line for you Clark. Because we know you do it for us."

Clark rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Yea well, give me a couple more days and I'll be back at work. Then you have to do what I say."

Whitney cracked a smile. "Alright then. I just need to move some stuff out of your office."

Clark turned from the TV, staring wide eyed. "You're using my office?!"

"You weren't there, and we needed a planning area. Besides, it's a nice desk."

Clark shook his head and changed the channel. "Get kidnapped and people start using my office anytime they want. Dang."

Whitney just laughed and kicked his feet up on the edge of the bed. "Oh yea, you need to get something back from Lois."

The nurses just saw Whitney come barreling out of the room before he was chased out by Clark, using a crutch and only wearing the hospital gown. "You gave Lois what?! Come back here Whitney! Get back here! Do you know how hard it was to get that badge back after thirty minutes? She's had it a week now! Stop running you coward!"

--

Hope you enjoyed the story. I never planned on Whitney becoming as big a part as he did in the first story, but he kept growing and people kept commenting on him. So, I wanted to challenge myself and delve deeper into the character. Some might not have liked where it went, but personally I'm not a fan of one dimensional characters. So, I wanted to push myself with this one. And yes, there might not have been as much Clois as some of you wanted, but I'll make that up to you. I just wanted this story to push Whitney and let him stand out. Thank you for your support, and please remember, if you liked it or have any comments, feel free to review. It costs nothing. No hidden fees. I'm serious, try it out.


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